Where do you originate from, waterway sweet ?
Whence do your wavelets meander?
Is it a lake or a mountain brake,
Where pixies make their home ?
Is it a land where youngsters play
Or then again old people dream at close of day
Nay," said the river,whispering low ,It is from Babyland I stream! "
.
For what reason do you hustle, O stream armada ?
Can you not remain your stream,
Furthermore, drift me tenderly,soft and sweet,
Back to that place that is known for dream ?
Can we not turn and play afresh
In Babyland, as we played of yore ?
Nay," said the river,that may not be;
There's no returning for you or me ! "
.
Whither away, I cried once more,
Whither away, O stream armada ?
Do you rest finally when your excursion's past
In some lovely place that is known for dream?
is it a land that we may know,
Also, discover the tranquility of the long back?
Indeed, " said the river,a arrive that is blest;
'Tis the place that is known for affection and endless rest ! '